Vehemence
by nishiqueeno
Summary: Composing a song should be easy: for Maki, it has always been. But when Nico is right there, and when Nico is writing the lyrics – Maki feels like her head is pounding and the world is crumbling and she can't focus. And maybe it has more to do than the fact that Nico has a terrible sense in most things but Maki refuses to see more into it than that.
It's crazy.

Maki knows it is. She wouldn't be here otherwise, with a pencil in hand and Nico by her side. She's not supposed to feel like this. It's supposed to be easy; simple, and light. It's something that she does often – so why is it so hard now? It's not complex at all; in fact, it's the complete opposite.

And yet she can't do it.

Composing a song should be easy: for Maki, it has always been. But when Nico is right there, and when _Nico_ is writing the lyrics – Maki feels like her head is pounding and the world is crumbling and she can't _focus_. And maybe it has more to do than the fact that Nico has a terrible sense in _most_ things but Maki refuses to see more into it than that. She can't. She can't lose focus, not now.

She glares down at the sheets beneath her. Two songs. She has to compose two songs – one for Nico and one for herself. It should be easy.

It really isn't.

/

She's smiling. Then again, she always is. Maki isn't sure why she expected otherwise.

"Are you ready?" Nico asks, bouncing over to the redhead. She's still grinning, like nothing is wrong, like she doesn't have to write the lyrics to two songs by the end of next week.

Admittedly, it helps a little.

Maki nods.

/

There's a cool, crisp feeling in the air when Maki awakes from her slumber, and even without looking at her calendar she knows that summer has passed and autumn is in her wake.

It's a good thing, Maki thinks.

She's always liked cool weather as opposed to the sweltering heat, even though her fingers freeze up and it gets harder to play the piano with ease. But it's refreshing nonetheless and it gives a peaceful atmosphere the redhead can almost never find in the midst of the summer humidity.

She casts a glance to the alarm clock by her bedside; it's half an hour before her morning alarm goes off, and unlike most people, Maki enjoys the early hours of the morning before the need to get ready for school. The redhead tugs on her navy jacket over her nightgown before pushing open the door that connects her room to the balcony.

Maki is greeted with a rush of cold air as she closes the door behind her, and a smile makes its way onto her face; the sun has only just begun to rise, and the sky is dyed with a shade of pink Maki almost never sees in the morning.

By the time the redhead hears the doorbell go off, she's already changed into her school uniform and ready to go, waiting in the living room. Without hesitation, she pulls open the large front door, and catches Nico at the gate with her hand hovering over the doorbell.

Maki can't help but smile.

/

The first year zones out a little on Nico's rambling and exaggerated hand movements for a moment and instead directs her focus to the older girl's face. Nico stares ahead, eyes smiling and mouth moving and saying something about Cotaro setting their kitchen on fire. Maki watches her; from the glistening ruby orbs embedded in her eye sockets to the perfect curvature of her nose and the small, barely noticeable dimples that reside in crevice of her cheek.

And Maki almost misses it.

She almost misses the thumping in her chest – the feeling of butterflies crowding in her stomach – that drowns out the sound of the world around her and all she can hear is _Nico_. And maybe it's a good thing.

But the feeling dissipates when the third year calls her name and Maki snaps her head to face the other girl. "Y-Yes?"

Nico smiles in response, the kind that sends Maki into something painfully similar to a cardiac arrest. Maki wonders what exactly about the black haired senior makes her feel like that.

The third year gestures to the lockers in front of them, "You should head off to class soon, Maki."

Before the redhead can reply, Nico is off to her locker. Maki finds herself staring.

/

Her songs are finished three days before Umi wants them handed in.

The day before, Nico had informed her that she had completed writing the lyrics, and Maki had refused the offer to read them.

She wanted to trust Nico.

It was something she had noticed not long ago – that her trust in the older school idol wasn't strong; if anything, it was brittle, weak, and undoubtedly thin. Maki knew that it couldn't be helped: Nico wasn't exactly the ideal promise keeper, nor was she always true to her word. But Maki also knew Nico wanted to be trusted more than anything else.

So Maki gave her that trust.

The redhead knows the consequences; if Nico had written downright _shitty_ lyrics, there was nothing Maki – or Umi, even – could do. But Maki trusts her.

"Have you finished the songs yet?" Maki had forgotten exactly when she had agreed to walk with Nico to school and back – but she would be lying if she didn't enjoy it. Still, it wasn't like anyone had to know.

Maki nods, directing her line of sight to the ground. "Yeah. I'm still kind of nervous, though. I mean, who knows what Umi will say?"

"I get it," Nico agrees, "but I don't understand why you don't want to read my lyrics." For a moment, a look of uncertainty flashes over her face; Maki almost misses it. "Is it because you think it'll be bad?"

"What?" Caught off guard, Maki stops walking and stares at the older girl. Of course…even the most confident people have their doubts. Maki curses herself for forgetting that. "No! I just…I just want it to be a surprise. I don't think it'll be bad, Nico. I trust you enough to know that."

"Really?" Nico has doubt written on her face. Maki does the one thing she knows the third year is familiar with: she smiles.

"Really."

/

"It's a lot better than I expected," Umi admits, somewhat sheepishly, when she's finished reading the lyrics and hands the sheet back to Nico (who immediately bursts into an immature grin). Maki smiles, because it's all she can do.

"Maki, I need to hear your song," the second year sends a look in Maki's direction, and she answers with a silent nod. Maki leads Umi and Nico to the music room, and realises that Nico has yet to hear the songs she has written.

Her seniors stand on either side of the piano, and Maki takes a deep breath. It's somewhat pressurising, but a hand touches her shoulder slightly and her gaze is met with a bright smile: one that holds confidence, encouragement – and most importantly, _Nico_.

Maki closes her eyes and sets her fingers on the ivory keys.

It should be easy.

It really is.


End file.
